


Egotober

by Caori



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Anti is an ASSHOLE, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, but not evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caori/pseuds/Caori
Summary: glimpses at the life of the Septic egos, with the occasional visit from the Ipliers.written for Egotober 2019





	1. Flower

Robbie loved flowers.

That one was a given. Since the undead ego had come into existence among his strange, dysfunctional family members, he always displayed a certain fondness for plant life; they may appear still and lifeless at first glance, but that misconception would be shattered under more scrutiny: the way they would oh-so-slowly move to always face the sun, or grow in a certain direction to reach the light.

Flowers were, in a sense, conscious. Responsive. _ Alive _, despite a misleading appearance.

No wonder the zombie felt a sense of kinship around them.

The other egos must’ve noticed it back then; memories of his family’s warm smiles and excited murmurs as they led him out of the house and into the woods. There, in the mossy clearing surrounding an elder willow tree -his favourite nap spot in the warm months- had stood a little glass house that wasn’t there just a few days before.

“This is a greenhouse,” Jackie had said. “We all had a hand in makin’ it. Even Glitchy McGee over here.”

Said glitch had sneered, but the purple-haired ego had only giggled at his antics; he could tell Anti wasn’t mad. He always could. 

“It’s for you,” Marv had continued, rolling his eyes, “we know how much ya like flowers, so we thought you’d like to grow some yerself. It’s tiny, but we made it cosy!”

To say Robbie way thrilled that day was an understatement. He remembered whispers of _ thank you _ s and _ I love you _s tumbling from his pale lips, his gangly arms reaching out to embrace the people he cared about most. Schneep’s stern advice about proper growing conditions, Chase’s laughter, JJ fondly ruffling his hair. He remembered warmth and unbridled happiness.

But now, he only felt cold.

Robbie let out a distressed whine, fingers slowly brushing along the decaying asters and daffodils. He didn’t understand. He had worked so hard! His body may be slow and unfit for precise handiwork, but back then his natural patience and gentleness had been enough to make his greenhouse flourish. “Even… asked Host… last time we visited…” 

So why? Why was everything turning brown? What did he do wrong?

He shivered; the air had become chill the past few days, and his trusty striped sweater didn’t quite cut it anymore, especially for a creature devoid of warm blood. Robbie knew he rarely ever left the heated comfort of the house during the colder months, so he’d been worried about the state of his plants if left unattended for too long.

Looked like he wouldn’t need to worry about _ that _ since they were all dying anyway.

The zombie shook his head; what was he thinking? He could still save them! Surely one of the others would know what to do. His milky white eyes steeled in resolve, he walked out of the greenhouse, rubbing his wool-covered arms for a semblance of warmth; he had a magician to find.

***

“You want me to do… what?”

Robbie stared, tilting his head to the side; Marv was at his desk in the library, a bewildered expression on his face, as if the undead ego had just sprouted another head. “Fix… my flowers? With your magic?”

The masked man stayed silent. A few seconds ticked by, heavy and increasingly uncomfortable, as Robbie’s determination started to crumble. “...please?” he tried, thinking it would somehow defuse whatever issue his brother seemed to be having with his request.

The older ego took off his kitty mask and shook his head, an apologetic expression on his face. “Buddy… I can do lots with my magic. But reversing the course of nature?” He grimaced. “I tried it once, and… well, it felt like shite. Like I was tampering with something way bigger than myself.”

The zombie’s hopeful expression crumbled. “So… you can’t help me?”

The magician felt awful letting his little brother down, but primordial magic wasn’t to be trifled with, and he wouldn’t budge on his decision. “I’m sorry Robster, but you gotta let this go. Flowers wither eventually, that’s a fact of life. They’ll regrow when spring comes back, you know that, right?”

Robbie frowned; he did. He knew flowers couldn’t thrive in the cold, he’s read it in one of Schneep’s books back when he first started growing his own plants. But he’d grown so used to always looking after these fragile, colorful lifeforms, the prospect of spending months without caring for them didn’t sit well with him.

“I… understand.” he drawled sadly, looking up at the taller man. “Thank you… for being honest.”

Marvin offered him a gentle smile, setting his hand down on the young ego’s head to ruffle his purple hair. “It’s alright. They’ll be back in no time, you’ll see. Want to clear up the greenhouse with me tomorrow? That way it’ll be all nice and clean for next year’s sprouts.”

As the undead nodded -if a bit unenthusiastically- at his brother’s idea, a pale, green-haired ego quietly scoffed from behind a bookshelf, before vanishing in a burst of neon-colored static.

As Anti found himself outside, he rested his back against a tree and put his face in his hands, growling; Robbie had the annoying tendency to project his emotions outwards without any restrain, especially when he was upset. The glitch could almost _ taste _ it in the air whenever he came close, and it brought up something within him he wasn’t quite willing to face. To make matters worse, Anti suspected that Robbie wasn’t even aware of this particular ability of his, and the glitch was apparently the only ego sensitive enough to pick up on it.

In any case, he did _ not _ like the feelings the zombie radiated right now. It pissed him off.

Coming to a decision, Anti glitched into Chase’s room, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Brody, I- oh my god, stop screaming, it’s me- Chase, I swear to fuck, if you don’t shut up right now I _ will _ strangle you. Look, I need help with something.”

***

“Robbie? Hey bud, wake up.”

The zombie stirred, milky white eyes fluttering open. Chase was kneeled down next to the couch, gently shaking him awake. Robbie’s face scrunched up in a high-pitched yawn as he carefully sat up from his nap spot in the living room. “Wha…? Do you… need me to move?”  
  
The fatherly ego chuckled. “Something like that. Wanna follow me outside? There’s something we wanna show ya.”

He nodded, still lethargic; he’d been feeling down since he and Marv had cleared up the greenhouse the day before, so any distraction was welcome in his book. “Okay…”

***

And what a nice distraction it was.

Robbie gasped, gaze fluttering excitedly around him; dozens of strange, flowerless plants he’d never seen before. Shiny and plump, ranging from deep emerald green to pastel pink, reaching high or hanging low from suspended pots above his head.

He stared, enthralled by the discovery. So pretty… he kind of wanted to much on them a little.

“Do you like it?” JJ signed cheerfully from beside him.

He turned around; his brothers were watching him expectantly, gauging his reaction. He timidly smiled at them. “I… love them… they’re pretty…” he drawled, smile morphing into a worried frown. “But...”

Schneep cleared his throat. “We- well, _ some of us _ couldn’t help but notice you were distressed when your flowers wilted.”

Jackie squinted at the doctor’s words. “What’s _ that _ emphasis for?”

“Ah, Bitte verzeih mir, I mustn’t have been clear enough. You are about as observant as a mole and I cannot believe we are related in any way whatsoever.”

“_ Hey! _”

“Aaaanyway,” Chase rolled his eyes as the two kept bickering next to him, “those are actually succulents. They’re very durable in both hot and cold weather, and barely need any water. Anti thought you’d like something you could care for all year-long, in addition to your usual summer plants.”

The zombie tilted his head. “Ant…?” Was this his more elusive brother’s idea?

“Yeah,” Marvin scratched the back of his head, grimacing. “He was really weird about it too. Like, you being sad made him angry somehow? So he threatened us to make it stop?” he shrugged. “We would’ve done it regardless, but you know how _ dramatic _ he can get.”

“Look who’s talking.” Schneep deadpanned. The magician laughed, flipping his long green braid behind his back. “Bitch, I’m fucking fabulous. There’s a difference.”

Robbie only watched as his family kept throwing jabs at each other, warmth blooming somewhere in his chest as he smiled. He’d have to thank Anti next time he caught him; he might have fooled his brothers with his cold and aloof facade, but he couldn’t hide from _ Robbie _ . He was less naive that most would think, and _ really _ good at figuring other people out.

The zombie _ would _ make sure the glitch understood that.


	2. Trap

_ Jump, fall, grab, swing, let go, turn, fall again. _

The cold night air whistling in his ears, catching on the edges of his suit. The smell of asphalt and smoke, of cosy coffeeshops and dirty alleyways. The cacophony of people walking far, far below him, of cars honking and tires shrieking, of thousands of lives happening all around him, each one the protagonist of their own story.

To those citizens, he is but a bright red blur in the corner of their eye. A cameo. An extra. He’s okay with that.

_ Grab a windowstill, push himself up onto a rooftop, run, jump, fall head first into the void, eyes closed. _ An ecstatic grin pushes his mask up his nose, the street’s neon lights reflecting in his bright blue eyes.

In this moment, when time seems to stretch and stop, when his heartbeat synchronizes with the busting and thrumming of the city, _ his _ city... Jackie knows freedom. Pure, unconditional freedom.

Then, as fast as it started, the moment is over; a shrill scream from somewhere below reminds him of his mission, and his elated gaze turns steely and focused. He twists his hips to reposition himself, grabbing a street lamp in his fall. He lands before two struggling silhouettes in the dim, sickly lights of your generic shady back alley. 

A quick glance tell him everything he needs to know: male figure manhandling a smaller, slimmer one. His body has moved before he knew it, ramming his fist into the larger form’s stomach with a vengeful grunt. The figure is shoved backwards, crashing down on a pile of dry cement, sending greyish dust flying everywhere.

Jackie huffs, and straightens up a smirk growing on his tanned, freckled face. “Didn’t yer mom tell you not ta lay hands on a lady?”

Only a dazed grunt rewards his taunt. Seemed like the guy wouldn’t get back up anytime soon. _ That was easy _, he thought, brushing dust off his arms before turning to the woman. “Are you al-”

He barely had time to register the metal pipe coming his way before pain exploded across his skull. He let out a startled gasp, the impact sending him flying; his vision swam, tiny fireflies dancing all over the alleyway. It hurt.

His back slammed against a wall as gravity took its hold on him, and everything went dark for what seemed like a second. He blinked back into awareness, a pained grunt clawing its way up his throat; his mouth filled with a metalling tang; he must’ve bit his tongue at some point.

“Shit, the bastard’s got a mean right hook.”

The hero looked up, his features twisting in pain and growing confusion; the male had gotten up and stood tall above him, scowling down at him. His arm clutched at his stomach. “Hear that, asshole? I’m gonna feel that punch for a week!” the man snarled before kicking the red-clad ego in the ribs. 

Jackie’s eyes widened, curling up in an attempt to protect himself. God, it hurt like a bitch. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see straight, his thoughts were all over the place and his reflexes shot to death… what the _ fuck _ was happening?!

“Frank, enough.”

He froze. The new voice was quieter. Softer. Colder. Through his blurry vision, he caught sight of a smaller figure standing next to the man. Indubitably feminine. And holding a metal pipe.

  
It finally clicked, and he cursed himself for his recklessness. A trap. This whole “aggression” had been a setup to catch him off-guard. He groaned, straining his muscles in an attempt to get up, despite the growing nausea threatening to make him lose his lunch here and then. Fuck, he probably had a concussion.

The woman tutted, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The vigilante bit his lower lip, not gracing her with a response, and rose up a few inches. His action was rewarded by a heavy foot slamming into his chest, slamming him back on the asphalt with a sickening crack.

Jackie’s nerves went alight with overwhelming, white-hot pain. Someone was screaming, though that was probably him. The shock sent him into a coughing fit as his brain switched back and forth between duty and basic survival instincts.

_ get out get out run get out FIGHT STOP THEM run run run run get away GET UP get away- _

“You see,” the woman started, her voice muffled by the cotton surrounding his head, “we’re trying to run a business here. We can’t have you swinging around where you don’t belong, beating up our men and ruining everything we worked so hard to achieve, now, can we?”

Jackie didn’t see what or who exactly she was referring to, but he decided that, in this moment, it didn’t matter. Those guys obviously planned on getting rid of him, and given how fast the alleyway spun and how bad his skull pounded…  
He spit out a mouthful of blood onto the grey asphalt. As much as he loathed to admit it, he was in no shape to fight them off. So the next best thing would be…

“Heh.” the man smirked, crouching down in front of the fallen hero. “That looks like it hurts.” he taunted, reaching out to roughly poke at his ribcage -the green-haired ego managed to stay silent this time, only a hissing intake of air betraying how he really felt. The criminal’s eyes shone with malice. “Guess you won’t be running around messing with out plans no more, huh?”

Jackie coughed again, more blood dribbling down his chin. He hoped he hadn’t punctured his lungs again, the doc would never let him hear the end of it. He braced himself for what was to come next, clutching something on his utility belt. _ Please work, please work, please work for the love of god. _

He looked up at his foes, his cut up lips stretching in a crooked smile. “Maybe not.” He fixed his gaze somewhere above the man’s head. “But _ they _ will.”

When the two turned to look behind them, their faces twisting in surprise and rage, he pointed his grappling hook at the sky and pressed the button. The metal grip shot up, further and further from the ground. _ C’mon, c’mon- _

The telltale _ clank _ of the hook catching on metal filled him with relief, and before he knew it he was airborne, angry screams echoing in the alley below him. He ignored his burning arm, the possibility of a dislocated shoulder, the pain radiating from his chest. He ignored his darkening vision, his growing nausea, the sticky warm liquid running down his temple and soaking his hair and beard.

He ignored it all, letting his body fall into the flow of familiar motions, rehearsed a thousand times and more. _ Swing, let go, catch, fall, land, run, jump. Again, again, and again. Tripping on a loose wire, falling, getting up. Running. _

Get away. Get back. Get _ home. _

His thoughts scattered, his world becoming foggy and distant. Time, space it no longer mattered. Just the colorful lights flying past him -or was he flying past them?- and gravity grabbing and letting him go over and over in a soothing rhythm, like a heartbeat. 

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Up…

***

Henrik run a hand down his face, reclining in his seat with a weary sigh. Finally, his shift was over. Like every thursday night the ER had been packed with drunken teenagers carrying in their comatose friends. He should really stop covering Edward’s shifts whenever the other ego decided to disappear god-knows-where every now and then.

He got up and left his office, gruffly saluting his colleagues on the way out. He couldn’t wait to go home and pass out on the couch, granted the thing wasn’t already claimed by either a drunk Chase or a territorial Anti.  


He shook his head, stepping out of the clinic and into the cold night air. His own family were a handful by themselves, between them and his dumbass patients it was a miracle he hadn’t gone insane yet.

The walk back to the house was uneventful enough, the distant rumble of an oncoming storm soothing his nerves. But as he climbed up the stairs to the front door and shoved the key into the lock, he froze.

As a legitimate, respectable, 100% real doctor, he was familiar with the sterile, chemical scent of hospitals; hell, he’d been inhaling it for so long he barely noticed it anymore. But one smell he could never really get used to was the distinct, heavy tang of blood. A smell he’d just caught a whiff of.

He frantically turned the key and pushed the door open, the emotional man overtaking the calm and calculating doctor. This was _ his _ home, _ his _ kin, this was different-

He rushed inside, flicking the lights on. There was someone laying on the couch alright. Cladded in bright fabric and leather, wild green strands escaping his hoodie, framing a light blue mask.

  
Covered in a lot more red than what was considered normal, even for him.

“_ Scheißen, Jackie! _” Henrik called out, rushing to his most reckless brother’s side. Said brother stirred and looked up at him, a cocky smirk displaying his blood-covered teeth. Fuck, this looked bad. The hero raised a hand in greeting. “Hey doc-” he croaked out, before a wet cough cut him off.

“Verdammt Jackie, shut up and don’t move an inch!” Schneep ordered, kneeling in front of the couch. He gently -well, gentler than with his usual patients at least- grabbed the hem of the vigilante’s hood to get a clear look at him; the left side of his face was coated in blood -dry, good, so he wasn’t bleeding out from here at least- and his gaze were clouded and unfocused. Henrik frowned, taking his phone out of his lab coat to shine the light in the hero’s blue eyes, making him wince.

“Pupils aren’t behaving normally. Concussion.” the doctor mumbled. Jackie chuckled. “Ah- yeah, that’s a thing. Shoulder might be fucked up a bit. Also pretty sure I broke a few ribs. ”

“WAS?!” the older ego shrieked in disbelief “What the hell? What were you _ doing _out there? Taking down a drug ring?!”

“Shhhh,” Jackie hissed, lifting his hand in a placating gesture, “Tone it down doc, you’ll wake up the others.”

“Tone it- are you _ joking _? You’re hurt!”

“Please, just…”

The hero grimaced, averting his gaze. “I… don’t want the others to see me like this. Especially Robbie.”

Henrik stopped, considering his little brother’s words. They seemed to mostly come from a place of pride, but there was something else here. Worry. Last time the youngest member of their household had seen one of them injured, he’d been inconsolable. Jackie was right; bringing the others into this would only cause more chaos and distress.

He sighed, surrendering before the other’s pleading expression. “Alright. We’re going to your room, I’ll patch you up and take care of those stains on the couch. But I swear, if you move around while I’m gone, I _ will _ pump you so full of sedatives you’ll be out for a _ week! _”

Jackie let out a painful wheeze and smiled. “Sounds fair.”


	3. Pose

Jacques tilted his head, tongue poking out of his mouth. His slender hand glided on the paper, up and down, left and right, fingers twitching in creative frenzy, leaving dark grey strokes in its wake. Every now and again his navy beret would slide off his lime hair, but he’s swiftly grab it and put it back before it hit the couch, eyes never leaving his masterpiece.  
  
Well, almost never. From time to time, his azure gaze would focus somewhere above the paper, taking in the details of his current muse; the way his lithe body laid on the carpet, his back turned toward the artist. His clawed fingers mindlessly fiddling with a kitchen knife, the tiny distorsions blooming around him only to disappear in the blink of an eye...

After a while, he stopped. Took a deep breath, like he’s just spent a while underwater. Placed his pen behind his ear and moved the paper away from him, taking a good look. “Mh.” he hummed critically, squinting at the lines and curves. The shading could use some more work.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing.”

The artist looked up. His model had glitched right in front of him, his dark green mane of a haircut sticking in all directions, his usual annoyed scowl firmly in place. Jacques wasn’t deterred though; he smiled brightly, pointing at Anti. “Drawing you!”

The glitch’s frown deepened as he tried to grab the page, Jacques quickly moving it out of his reach with a disapproving huff. “Ah-_ ah_, _ non non _ ! No peeking until I’m done, _ compris _ ?”

“Why not?”

Jacques’ hands flailed around in some sort of imitation of grand gestures. _ “L’âme n’est pas complétée. Elle quittera le papier si tu regardes avant.” _

“You know I don’t speak frog.”

“_Je sais, andouille_. Just shut up and sit, I’m almost done.”

The demon rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand the artist’s sudden fascination with him, and frankly, he couldn’t be bothered to care. He sat back on the plush carpet of the living room, disinterestedly spinning his knife in mid-air. For a few minutes, the only thing disrupting the silence of the early morning was the scratching of Jacques’ pen on his improvised canvas. Schneep was at the clinic again -he swore the good doctor was going to overworking himself into a grave if he kept this up-, the hero was probably out getting himself killed somewhere again, Brody and Robbie never got up until ten, and he was pretty sure the magician was busy practising lame card tricks or some shit in the basement. The arrogant, haughty son of a-

_ “Fini !” _

Anti blinked. Jacques was kneeling in front of him -when had he moved?- holding out his paper to him. The french ego’s smile was blinding, sapphire eyes glimmering with hope. His black and white striped shirt was crumpled in a few places. A memory of fluffy purple hair and milky white eyes looking up at him in awe bubbled to the surface of his mind.

He groaned in defeat and took the offering, considering the drawing.

That was him alright, laying down in a strikingly accurate depiction of his usual curled-up pose, holding his favourite knife in a loose grip. He wasn’t sure how the artist had managed to draw him from the front when the glitch had been facing away from him, but he didn’t question it.

The piece was all sharp lines and angles, just like him. Anti let out a grunt of approval, hoping to appease his younger lookalike; he supposed it was true to life.

But the more he looked, the more he noticed a certain… smoothness in the piece. A soft curve here and there, a gentle light reflecting off the knife and into his eyes. A relaxed expression on his face, rather than a smirk or a scowl. Laid back. Peaceful.

How the fuck had he done that with just a _ pencil _?!

Anti looked up from the paper, his acid green eyes meeting the artist’s. The guy was still smiling, but it had a certain _ smugness _ to it now. “Soooo…?” he asked, like he already knew _ exactly _ what was going on in the demon’s head. That sneaky lil’ fucker.

“It’s okay I guess.” the glitch drawled dismissively, handing back the drawing. But Jacques stopped him, shaking his head. “_Non, non_. You keep it.”

“What for?”

The frenchie winked. “Reminder.”

“Of _ what _ exactly? Of how fucking good I look? ‘cause I don’t need to be reminded of that.”

Jacques burst into laughter. “_Fais pas le con. _ You know what I’m talking about.”

Just because he did didn’t mean he wanted to acknowledge it. Especially to that cheese-loving brat. “Whatever,” he shrugged, warping the drawing into this nifty pocket dimension of his with a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m going to fuck with Schneep a bit. Maybe get that stick out his arse.”

“_Fais gaffe à son scalpel ! _” his little brother waved at him as he disappeared in a burst of neon-colored static.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> compris ? = understood?
> 
> L’âme n’est pas complétée. Elle quittera le papier si tu regardes avant. = the soul isn’t complete. It’ll leave the paper if you peek before it’s done.
> 
> Je sais, andouille = I know, dummy
> 
> Fini ! = All done!
> 
> Fais pas le con. = Don’t play dumb.
> 
> Fais gaffe à son scalpel ! = Watch for his scalpel!


	4. Jacket

It all started with a jacket.

It wasn’t even anything special. If anything, it was quite pathetic-looking: a ratty, washed out denim jacket, torn up and stitched back together more times than any of them could count.

“It barely has any thermal protection, Chase!” Schneep kept saying, always the practical one.

Despite all that, it was Chase’s favourite. He wore it through thick and thin, even when the cold wind of early spring sneaked through the holes and making him shiver. Even when his brothers advised him to just replace it. 

Until the day it tore up again, one time too many.

The tear was massive; right in the middle of the back, almost running through the entire length of the denim. Stitching could only do so much for a jacket who’s threads barely held on anymore.

“You’re sure you can’t fix it?” Chase pleaded. Marvin rubbed his arm uncomfortably. All the egos suspected the article must’ve been a gift from his former family before… well.

“I can mend the threads back together,” he explained in an apologetic tone, “but they’ve been stretched so thin they’d just break within a few days.”

The magician felt useless, and that was basically his least favourite thing to feel; why did everyone keep coming to him with the FEW problems he couldn’t solve with magic?!

That’s when Anti, who’d been enjoying the peace of the living room until the vlogger came whining, lost his patience and lashed out. As he always did.

“Get over it, Brody. It’s just a dumb jacket. Just get a new one.”

Chase’s face fell even more, his blue eyes glazing over. One could’ve heard a pin drop in the heavy silence that settled then.

“_Anti._” Marvin hissed at the glitch, green eyes glaring daggers. “What the actual _ fuck _ was that.”

JJ was frantically signing in the corner of his eye. Anti ignored him, and sneered at his rival. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

“There are more delicate ways to say it!”

“Oh, so what, I’m supposed to _ baby _ him like you all do? It’s been years, ever heard of _ moving on_?”

“That’s not-”

**“ENOUGH.”**

The whole room froze, the temperature suddenly dropping. A shiver ran down Anti’s spine as he slowly turned to face the local mute. He… wow, okay. He looked _ enraged_.

See, here’s the thing: JJ usually spoke with his hands, occasionally mouthing his words for more clarity. But the dapper man possessed another, less uh, conventional way of communicating. As Marvin had explained once -well, _ attempted to _ really, that fraud didn’t know shit about this stuff-, Jameson could project what he wanted to say directly into people’s awareness with more or less force. It wasn’t telepathy, as the targets didn’t “hear” his nonexistent voice in their head, it was more of a... direct transmission of meaning and intent.

In any case, this wasn’t something the mute enjoyed talking about, and Anti could count the number of times he’d used it on a single hand. If the current situation had warranted it... well, it couldn’t be good.

JJ briskly walked up to Chase and pointed at the jacket. _ “Please give it to me. I’ll see what I can do.” _

Oh, so back to signing it was.

“U-um-” Chase stammered, still wide-eyed and tense by JJ’s previous outburst. The younger ego’s features softened, and he gently grabbed the vlogger’s shoulder. _ “Trust me.” _

Chase stayed silent for a few seconds then nodded, passing the ruined piece of clothing to JJ, who draped it over his left arm before turning to the glitch.

_ “Anti, a word.” _

Said glitch didn’t have time to process the words before the smaller ego grabbed him by the arm, pulled him off the couch and dragged him outside, slamming the door closed in his wake. Anti wasn’t sure why he let the other manhandle him like this, but it might have something to do with the fact that he’d never seen the mild-mannered Jameson Jackson so… _ visibly _ pissed. The guy was more of a silent rage type.

Not gonna lie, he was curious. And, for reasons he didn’t want to delve into, a bit uneasy.

JJ finally stopped walking, letting go of his arm and turning towards him. _ “Do you know what today is.” _ the shorter man signed angrily. 

Anti frowned. “What the fuck does it have to do with-”

**“QUIET.”**

The demon’s words died on his tongue. Jameson had done the thing again; two times in one day, that was new. The blue-haired ego was glaring up at him, his dark grey eyes burning holes into his skull and pulling at something inside of him. It pulled and pulled, and Anti could feel himself slipping deeper and _ deeper into the inky darkness those eyes had become it was spreading and enveloping him and his body felt light and airy and he could almost reach out to the wisps of light coming into focus and he was burning and freezing and pulsing like a neutron star further and further and closer and closer to the edge of everything- _

Then JJ closed his eyes and Anti felt himself snap back into his own body, dizzy and gasping for air. He could feel goosebumps prickling all over his arms and down his spine, feel the thrumming energy boiling under his brother’s skin.

Cold. Restained. Drawing him in a gaping hole in the fabric of reality, one you couldn’t see the bottom of. So similar, yet so unlike his own glitching powers.

The demon found his footing again as Jameson let out a pained grunt, his fingers tracing soothing lines against his forehead. He looked about as rattled as Anti felt right now. Said glitch had no idea what had just happened; hell, he had no idea what _JJ_ _was_, truly. But he was aware he was dangerous, had been for a while now. He’d just never _experienced _whatever JJ had been talking about, until now.

He remembered the dapper man telling him about the... _ incident _ . Something about accidentally becoming entangled with the universe’s timestream, back when he used to mess around with this stupid time-warping pocket watch of his.

Or some shit like that. The details always became fuzzy whenever he tried to think about it.

It was funny, in a messed up way. Under the carefree attitude, the silly old-timey attires and fancy parlé, Jameson was the only ego who could inspire true _ fear _ in him. The dapper, monocle-wearing gentleman was by far -and it physically hurt him to admit it- the most powerful entity he’s ever met. Ridiculous, right? But now, Anti suspected they guy could very well hold his ground against _ Dark _ himself. _ Holy shit, _ he realized with a dizzying mix of horror and awe, _ it wouldn’t even be _ close _ . _

And no-one, in his family or off at Dark’s manor, had any fucking clue. No-one, except for himself. This was their secret. Their _ deal _.

  
JJ took a grounding breath; the cool flow of energy receded, before disappearing from Anti’s awareness. He re-opened his eyes; the usual dark grey. Perfectly ordinary. Misleading. 

_ “Apologies,” _ his hands spoke as he sighed. They were moving more sedately than before. _ “Let’s try this again, shall we? Do. You know. What today is.” _

Anti nodded, slowly. “April 10th. You-”

_ “That means,” _ the other interrupted, _ “tomorrow is April 11th. Do you understand what this means, or are you _ that _ far up your own ass?” _

Now, if this had been anyone else speaking to him that way, Anti would’ve smashed their head into the ground by now. But, contrary to popular belief, he valued his life. So he swallowed his pride and made a notable effort.

It clicked after about ten seconds.

“Fuck.”

_ “Indeed. Now you see why Marvin didn’t care for your insensitive comments.” _

Anti barely caught himself before he could blurt out that this sorry excuse for a magician got offended at everything that came out of his mouth anyway, and pondered the situation.

Tomorrow was… what was the negative version of an anniversary? Tomorrow was the _ suckiversary _ of the day Chase’s wife had taken his kids away from him. Honestly, Anti should’ve picked up on the signs; the guy got really withdrawn at this time of year, locking himself in his room for hours on end, barely getting up to eat or take care of his basic needs. The first few years had been the hardest; one time, Robbie had found the fatherly ego passed out drunk on the kitchen floor, barely scabbed cuts all over his arms and legs. Kid had nightmares for weeks after that.

He’d been doing better lately. But it was still pretty rough.

Anti scowled. “So, what about it? What the hell am I supposed to do?”

_ “What you’re _ going _ to do, is help me fix this.” _JJ started, gently tapping on the blue jacket draped over his left arm.

“What, this old thing?”

_ “Why, yes. You like swinging that knife around, cutting things, don’t you? What I planned is _ right _ up your alley.” _

Anti rolled his eyes. “Whatever. No like I got anything better to do.”

_ “I figured you didn’t. You will also apologize to Chase.” _

Anti blinked in surprise, then let out a high-pitched _ “HA!” _, smirking down at Jameson. “Like hell I will.”

The gentleman tilted his head at his refusal, his eyes lighting up mischievously. Anti didn’t know what was going through that head, but he didn’t like it.

“_ Ah, I’m afraid it’s an all-or-nothing kind of deal. A shame.” _ JJ shrugged. _ “Oh well, guess I’ll have to ask _ Wilford _ to come and help me.” _

That cunning little shit.

“Don’t you _ fucking _ dare.” Anti growled, static flickering in and out of existence around his body. “I don’t want that psychotic bubblegum bitch _ anywhere _ near this house, you hear me?!”

That was another of James’ mysteries; he was the only one -save for the emo at the head of the Iplier household- that could somehow get the trigger-happy ego to do what he asked without killing anyone. Most of the time.

Maybe it was the mustache. He’d believe anything at this point.

Looked like he had no choice. “Let me guess.” he laughed, low and bitter. “I have to _ mean _ it?”

_ “No.” _

The demon blinked at him, stunned. That wasn’t the answer he expected.

_ “No,” _ the younger ego repeated, _ “because you don’t believe you’ve said anything wrong. That won’t change, not now at least, and we don’t have time to go over your severe lack of empathy at the moment.” _

“Why you-”

_ “However, Chase is hurting and in need of our support. No matter how… insincere it might be for some of us. You and him might not see eye to eye, but he’ll appreciate the gesture nonetheless.” _

Anti glared at the floor, fists clenched. His sharp nails were digging into his palms; the pain felt nice and grounding. “And how, pray tell, do you know that? You just said it yourself, we don’t get along.”

_ “Because your words hurt him.” _

The glitch’s head snapped up, staring at JJ. His brother wore a bittersweet expression. _ “Chase isn’t the kind of man to be affected by what strangers think.” _ he signed softly. _ “Do you truly believe that Chase doesn’t care about what _ you _ think of him? Do you truly believe...” _

Chase pestering him. Chase telling him about his stupid brats. Chase’s disappointed face when the demon refused to give him the time of day. Chase yelling at him whenever he disappears for a few days at a time.

_ “...that Chase doesn’t care about _ you _ ?” _

Silence. After a nondescript amount of time, the static quieted down before slowly fading away. Anti groaned and rubbed his hands against his face. What a headache. “Fine. Fine, fine,_ fine _, I’ll fucking apologize if it’ll make that crybaby happy.”

_ “Good. Then we can begin.” _

The glitch looked up. “What, right now?”

_ “Quite. We must finish before tomorrow morning. You’re the closest to Chase in terms of height, if not in build, so I’ll need to take your measurements. Let’s see, I should get more fabric from Marvin…” _

“Not to insult your sewing skills or whatever, but didn’t the others say that stitching it back up wouldn’t work?”

_ “I’m not trying to.” _

JJ’s eyes shone with determination, a conspiratory smile on his lips. _ “I can do something better.” _

_ *** _

Chase’s gaze kept jumping up and down. He stared at the bundle in his arms, then back at JJ’s smiling face. Back to his lap, back to Jay.  
  
The day had started the usual way. Wake up feeling like crap, debating crawling back under the covers until the sun burned out and swallowed them all, then get up anyway because he wanted to show his family he was still alive.

But something had thrown a wrench into his usual plans -heh, plans. Like feeling like a useless husk of a human being and laying around all day qualified as _ plans _.

Jameson had marched into the kitchen as he unenthusiastically made himself a cup of that ol’ dirty bean water, gently grabbed his arms and led him to the living room while he was still confused about this whole endeavour.

Then he had made him sit on the couch and shoved a bunch of fabric in his lap.

Well, no, that wasn’t totally accurate, he realized as he held up the thing in front of him. Patches of light and dark blue, soft yellows, all neatly stitched together. A jacket. A rather cool-looking one at that. Handmade too, if his younger brother’s familiar stitching pattern was any indication.  
  
But that wasn’t what had grabbed his attention.

“Jay… is that-”

_ “We couldn’t fix it, Chase.” _

The dad tilted his head, confused. JJ was smiling sadly. “_ I do apologize for that. But as you can see, we managed to save most of the original fabric, to incorporate it into this one.” _

The gentleman’s hands stilled, hesitant. He was visibly looking for the right signs. _ “Think of it as... the sum of the best parts of your life. Both your past _ and _ your present, here, with us.” _

His vision was blurring. He choked on a sob, hand flying up to muffle the sounds threatening to spill out of his mouth.

_ “Do you like it?” _

Chase looked up, brown eyes shining with unshed tears. A small, but sincere smile lighting up his tired features. “I- I love it. I t-think this is your best work yet.”

JJ positively glowed at the compliment. _ “Why, thank you. But I wouldn’t dare to hoard all the credit, it was a team effort after all.” _

“It was?”

_ “Indeed. Anti helped out.” _

“Anti…?”

“Ya called?”

Chase startled, eyes widening; the demon had glitched right next to Jameson, an odd expression on his face. It was like he was trying to look both aloof and annoyed, which usually meant he was conflicted about something. “Anti, you-”  
“Brody, I need you to shut up and listen closely, cuz I’m only gonna say it once.”

Chase closed his mouth and nodded. The glitch didn’t look angry at him for once, just… uncomfortable for some reason. He watched as Anti crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

The dad just stared. Whatever he was expecting to happen, it wasn’t this. Anti never apologized for anything, especially not to _ him _. Heck, sometimes he wondered if the demon was allergic to his very presence or something.

“There. I said the wrong shit at the wrong time, and while I stand by what I said about moving on-”

_ “Anti.” _

“I’m not done. What I’m trying to say is-”

He green-haired ego groaned, scratching at the back of his skull. What the fuck was he doing. “I. Didn’t. _ Want _. To hurt you, or whatever. But I did, apparently. So, I’m sorry about that part.”

He turned around to glance at JJ as Chase just kept blinking like an idiot. The smaller man nodded in approval, and Anti relaxed. There, he said it. Now he could put this whole dumb shit behind him and go scream into the void or-

His train of thought was interrupted by a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him down. He let out a startled -and offended- yelp as Chase circled his arm around him and pulled him tightly against his side. Oh, okay, that was a thing they were doing now. Hug. Right. Guess this was his life now.

JJ smiled fondly as Chase squeezed him against his other side, crying happy tears while Anti looked like he wanted to jump through a window. To the dapper man’s pleasant surprise, the demon stayed put and let the local rad dad indulge in his own special brand of affection.

Well. This was a success if he ever saw one. Their little dysfunctional family still had a lot to work through, but they’d get there eventually. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUYS I CAN EXPLAIN-
> 
> okay no scratch that, i cant. this was supposed to be a short (ITS SEVEN PAGES LONG NOW I CRAVE DEATH) and sweet piece about jj making a new jacket for the rad sad dad, and now he’s some sort of Bad Wolf-like, uber powerful cosmic entity who could kick everyone’s ass if he felt like it??? WHAT????
> 
> My brain did a big brain move or something, i dont know. well, JJ’s abilities are actually destructive as hell, he almost pulled anti from reality and into the Void there. so it’s not like he’d ever use them voluntarily. It’s more of a curse really.
> 
> god this one is all over the place, i’m sorry. I don’t even know if this whole cosmic thing will have any relevance at all in the future, i just let my monkey brain take over when i write. hope you like it anyway?


	5. Umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *flips table* gOD DAMMIT EDWARD  
i was this close. THIS CLOSE. to succeed in not making it shippy. and my brain goes sike and does this shit. Well i guess this is my life now. im so sorry

The street was quiet, save for the pitter-patter of raindrops crashing on his umbrella. He hummed a cheery tune whose origin he couldn’t place, mindlessly syncing up to the sound of two pairs of shoes walking the asphalt.

“So… how’s your family doing?”

Dr. Iplier tilted his head towards Henrik, surprised by his sudden query; his old friend hadn’t said a word since they left the clinic a few minutes ago. The late evening was cold and rainy, and his workaholic colleague had forgot to bring his umbrella. So Edward had offered to walk him home under his own, an offer the German had taken without much protest.

And here laid the problem; Dr. Schneeplestein was a proud, stubborn man- much like himself- and he despised needing any sort of assistance. So him accepting without much of a fight was… concerning, to say the least.

He shook himself out of his thoughts; Henrik was waiting for an answer, his light grey-blue eyes peering at him sedately. He’d ask later. “Hectic.” he sighed. “Wilford set fire to a nightclub last week, so Dark grounded him until the authorities stop looking for him. They’ve both been in a foul mood ever since, and it’s up to me to pick up the pieces. As always.”

_ Ah, _ the german pondered, _ explains how often he missed work lately. _ “How about the new guy, the one with the stutter?”

Edward’s features softened; apparently, the Manor had a new resident, one that the dark-haired doctor had taken a shine to. “Oh, you mean young Eric. He’s been doing better, actually. He only broke down crying twice this week.”

Henrik hummed approvingly. “ _ Ja _ , the Derekson boy. Poor soul. No offense,  _ mein Freund _ , but with a household like yours? The fact that he’s still alive  _ is _ a crowning achievement.”

“None taken. Honestly, I don’t think you Septics realize how lucky you are. I’m starting to think Mark can only create raging psychopaths, narcissists or cripplingly traumatized egos.”

“And which of those are you, then?”

A smirk. “I’m a doctor. Therefore, I’m all of those things and more.”

Schneep barked out a laugh; he always liked talking to Edward. The Ipliers were, in his professional opinion, walking disaster magnets- that is, whenever they weren’t the ones  _ causing _ the disaster in the first place. Henrik knew his own family was chaotic- they too had their very own demon to deal after all- but the Manor’s inhabitants were on a whole other level.

Despite all that, the strong-jawed, level-headed doctor was a welcome presence in Henrik’s life. “How about yours?” said doctor asked, ruffling his untamed hair. The humidity had made it especially poofy and shiny today.

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Same as ever. Rambunctious. Reckless. Anti and Marv keep snapping at each other like rabid wolves, and I swear Jackie shows up half-dead at the door every other week now.  _ Gott… _ ” he ran a shaky hand through his own hair; it was tangled and greasy. Jesus, when was the last time he’d gone home to shower and eat? “I know he heals faster than a normal human, but I’m getting worried. Other than that, they’re doing fine… Jacques paid us a visit last month, and Angus should come back from Australia soon.”

Dr Iplier hummed in sympathy. As a doctor himself- as well as the only sane man in a ridiculously large ego family, he understood the feeling quite well. But he couldn’t help but notice how the shadows under his colleague’s eyes had gotten darker, his milky complexion paler, his footing less secure. Even his hair looked grayer these days; he guiltily wondered if the shifts Henrik had been covering on his behalf had something to do with it.

Edward was glad he’d offered to accompany him tonight; the german’s state was starting to worry him. “Have you been taking care of yourself properly?”

Schneep let out a mirthless chuckle, averting his gaze. “What doctor worthy of that title does.”

“You shouldn’t be neglecting your own health!”

“Look who’s talking.”

Edward cringed at that, turning away from his friend. Touché. “Alright, so I’m a hypocrite, fine. It doesn’t make it less true.”

There was a lull in the conversation as they kept walking, both stubbornly staring in front of them. The sun had finally set, and the street lamps around them were gradually switching on.

“I just want them to be okay.”

Dr. Iplier looked at Henrik; he was still staring ahead, but his eyes had lost their shine and focus. He looked tired. Drained. “Things have been getting better between them, I  _ know _ that. But some of them have issues they’re just  _ not willing _ to work through, and it frustrates me to no end.” The german groaned, resting his face in his hands. “I’m just. So.  _ Tired _ . Of taking care of everyone. All the time. It’s like they’ll fall apart if I’m not there to mend the bridges. JJ’s presence has been helping a  _ lot _ , but…”

“Hey.”

Henrik looked up at his friend. The broader man was staring at him, his dark brown eyes burning with intent.   


“They’ll be fine.” Edward said softly. “Like you said, they’re getting better. They wouldn’t want you overworking yourself to death for their sake.”

“But-”

“Shush. I’m a doctor, I know what’s best.”

Henrik frowned; it’d been a while since the other has used  _ that _ . On him, no less. “So am I,  _ dummkopf _ .”

“Well I’ve been around longer, that obviously makes me the superior one.” Edward boasted, proudly puffing up his chest.

“How does that make any sense?!” Henrik squawked, his thin hands flying everywhere in indignation.

“Because I said so!”

“ _ Gott _ , you’re insufferable!”

They glared at each other for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. Henrik had jerked his head backwards, howling with mirth, while Edward had devolved into his baritone guffaw, almost kneeling over in his hilarity. That meant he wasn’t protecting them from the rain anymore, but none of them cared.

Their manic laughter faded into nervous chuckles, and Schneep wiped the tears from his eyes.  _ Christ, that felt good. _ “Thank you, mein freund. I really needed this.”

“Anytime, old friend.”

The german ego tilted his head, smiling brightly at the Iplier. “Look at you, giving actual logical advice. I can’t believe you’re the same man that kept telling everyone they were dying.”

“Hey,” Edward shrugged, “Mark may have made me as a joke, but egos aren’t mindless puppets.” he looked up at the sky. It was starting to clear up. “We’re not that different from humans. We change. We grow.”

He smiled mischievously. “You of all people should know that. Remember-”

“I swear I will punch you if you finish that sentence.”

“-when you thought the penis bone was an actual thing?”

“Screw you Edward. I am a respectable, perfectly qualified  _ doktor _ now!” He was. Had an actual diploma and everything.

The Iplier snorted, smiling fondly. “I know. You’re the very best.”

Schneep almost tripped on his own foot at his colleague’s words, eyes widening. “ _ Was-” _

“We’re here.”

The German followed the other’s gaze. He was right; they were now right in front of the house, and Henrik could vaguely make out the sound of Chase’s drumming and Jameson’s violin. They were practicing again.

Henrik sighed, but it was in relief this time; no sign of an argument, nor of another one of Marvin’s spells gone wrong. Maybe he could catch a break after all. He turned towards Edward again, clearing his throat. “Well. Thank you for walking me home, I appreciate it.”

The Iplier waved dismissively. “Eh, don’t mention it.” He then sobered up and put his hand on the other’s shoulder. “But I meant what I said. I care about you, and I don’t want to see you waste away. So I want you to be more careful with how you treat yourself, okay?”

Henrik blinked then nodded, a bit dazed by the affection he could feel behind the other’s words, and at the strange way the streetlights were reflecting in his chocolate eyes. “Okay… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Edward stayed silent for a while, searching Henrik’s face for something. Once he seemed to find it, he closed his eyes and breathed out. “Alright. I trust you.”

His fingers brushed against the smaller man’s stubble as he withdrew his hand. Henrik’s breath hitched. 

“Get some sleep, Hen.” Edward murmured. “ _ Please. _ I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His lips stretched in a farewell smile before he walked away, leaving Henrik standing alone in front of his house under the fading rain. The younger ego’s hand shakily rose up, fingers tracing the lingering heat on his cheek.

_ Gottverdammt. _ Maybe he needed a drink.


	6. Chapter 6

Henrik knew from the get-go that this was going to be a shitty day.

Now, today was supposed to be his first off day in… months? Years? He wasn’t sure. He’d been against it of course, but his insufferable colleagues kept pestering him about “healthy work balance” and “self-care” and other nonsense of the same caliber. It had gotten to such a degree that even his boss had stepped in, basically  _ ordering _ him -Schneep didn’t take no orders from no-one, thank you very much- to take a week off.

“I have some patients in the west wing that look healthier than you do right now, Henrik.” his boss had said. He’d then taken a long look at the ego’s face and shaken his head. “Scratch that,  _ all _ of them do. I don’t need one of my best doctors to burn out on me, do you understand?”

So now here he was, slowly waking up in his room back home, with nothing to look forward to. Schneep sighed and draped an arm over his eyes, blocking off the light coming from the slits between his blinds. He could faintly hear Chase’s laughter coming from downstairs, as well as Robbie’s delighted cries; they were probably playing a game of sorts. That was odd. Those two weren’t usually up so earl-

_ Wait a minute. _

He jerked his arm off his face, a sense of urgency rushing through him. His bedroom was too bright, his body too heavy with the remnants of sleep, his bed too warm. What time- 

The German clumsily fished out his phone from under his pillow and unlocked it, wincing at the harsh light of the screen. His jaw dropped.

“11AM?!  _ Mist! _ ”

This couldn’t be happening. This  _ shouldn’t _ be happening, his phone always woke him up at 6AM sharp, every single day. But as he opened the clock app, he realized his trusty alarm was… gone. Not even turned off, just straight up  _ missing _ . 

He was pretty sure he’d remember deleting it -not that he ever would. Was this some sort of glitch…?

His face twisted in rage as he realized.  _ This motherfucker. _

The little shit was gonna get an earful when Henrik found him. The doctor threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed - _ ouch _ , his head pounded at the sudden movement.  _ Note to self, get some ibuprofen before going downstairs. _   


He couldn’t believe he’d just slept for  _ twelve hours _ . This would  _ not _ stand; he couldn’t just laze around all day, he’d go insane. He was a man of action, god dammit! Staying idle wasn’t an option, not in a million years. God, to think he had a week left of this nonsense. His coworkers hadn’t even let him bring his files, what was he supposed to  _ do _ ?!

The voices coming from under him grabbed his attention again, planting an idea in his mind: it had been a while since he’d put his siblings through a proper medical checkup. Perhaps they were overdue for one. A neurotic smile grew on his face as he started to frantically put on some clothes, despite the floor slightly rocking beneath his feet. Yes, he needed to make sure everyone was healthy, update their medical files, and check if Jackie’s ribs were still healing properly from his latest scuffle, and after that he could reorganize his office downstairs -something he’d be putting off for a while- and, and, and-

***

“Gunten tag, Marvin. How have you been lately?”

The magician squirmed in his seat, looking around Henrik’s office with an aggravated expression. “Can’t we postpone this? I have a show to prep for this evening…”

“I assure you, this won’t take long. I’ve haven’t been home as much these last few weeks, I figured it was time for a check-up.”

“You did one last month-”

“How’re your burns? Do you change your bandages every day?”

The green-haired magician frowned under his mask; his brother wasn’t listening, and he was usually the one pestering the rest of them about communication and honesty. Something wasn’t right. “... yeah. And I’m taking a break from potion making until they’re healed, like you told me to.”

The German nodded, scribbling something in his grey notebook. “Gud. I appreciate the basement not blowing up every other day.”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating,” Marvin protested, straightening up in his chair, “My potions don’t explode, they’re just… feisty.”

“Right, right. Of course.” the doctor mumbled dismissively, still not tearing his eyes away from the papers on his desk. 

The masked man blinked. Okay, something was definitely up; Schneep would never miss an opportunity to berate him about the “dangerous and volatile experiments” of his. And was it the lighting in the room or did his counterpart seem a little paler than normal? “Hey, doc… is something wrong? You’re being less of an ass that usual.”

Henrik stopped writing, looking up at his patient. He pursed his lips in annoyance. “First of all, I take offense to that. Und nothing’s wrong.” he stated before taking a sip of his morning coffee -or afternoon coffee? His inner clock was all over the place today.

The magician tilted his head, doubtful. Maybe he should ask Anti to keep an eye on the older ego, just in case. Be useful for once. “If you’re sure… are we done here? I asked Yan to give me a ride downtown, they should pick me up in a few.”

Schneep’s grey eyes squinted in confusion. Yan? As in, the red-haired Iplier that dressed like a japanese schoolgirl? “He has his licence?”

“ _ They, _ ” Marv emphasized, “don’t. They drive a bike, and  _ yes _ I’ll wear a helmet, stars.”

The German nodded. “ _ They _ , my apologies. I didn’t know you two were acquainted.”

Marvin fiddled with the hem of his cape, averting his gaze. “We- it’s a recent thing. I know you and the glitch bitch don’t like us hanging out with the Ipliers, but Robbie introduced us and-”

“Robbie?!”

He stopped. Henrik was staring at him, dumbfounded. That’s when Marvin realized he’d just, as Anti would say,  _ fucked up. _ “...shit. He didn’t tell you, did he.”

“Tell me what? That he’s been hanging out with the Ipliers behind my back?! They’re dangerous!”

“You hang out with their doctor all the time! How is this any different?”

Schneep grit his teeth at the mention of his friend and colleague, and pushed back the unwanted thoughts. “We work together, und he’s a sensible person who doesn’t stab people left and right!”

Marvin bristled, hands clutching the fabric of his pants “Yan doesn’t-”

The doctor interrupted him, raising his hands in a placating manner. “I- look, I’m sorry I snapped, okay? I don’t know them, not like you seem to do, so it’s not my place to judge.” He sighted, something soft crossing his features. “I know you can handle yourself, Marv, so if you want to make friends with Dark’s family, I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop you, that would be hypocritical of me. But Robbie is-”

“What? An idiot? Clueless? Is that what you think?”

Schneep growled, massaging his temples. That stupid headache was coming back. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Robbie is far from stupid, but he’s not like the rest of us, you know that. He’s… innocent. I just don’t want him to get hurt.”

A pregnant pause. The magician fell back in his chair, shaking his head. “Hen… he’s not a child, even if you and Chase and… pretty much everyone here thinks of him that way. If you think he’s too naive to make his own decisions, then you might not know him as well as you think you do.”

Henrik chuckled bitterly. “Not as much as  _ you _ do apparently, if he didn’t trust me enough to tell me himself.”

“He does trust you… but he also knows how protective of us you are. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t let him see them if you found out.” Marvin shrugged. “And from your reaction just now, I can see why he would.”

The doctor groaned; god dammit, this wasn’t how he had planned to spend his day. Looked like he and the zombie were due for a talk. “Does Anti know about this?”

His patient laughed. “Hell no, he’d throw a hissy fit if he found out. That guy goes full-on when it comes to Rob. Honestly, I think you and me are the only ones in the know for now.”

Henrik hummed and closed his notebook, signaling the end of the consultation. “I suppose. You can leave now, send in Anti next please. Und tell Robbie to come see me when I’ll be done with the rest of you.”

“You’re not gonna lecture him too, are you?”

He shook his head, peering into his now empty mug. He needed more coffee. “If he truly understands what he’s getting into, then I won’t have a say on the matter. But I need to hear it from him.”

“Sounds reasonable enough.” the magician breathed out, standing back up. “He should still be with Chase, I’ll tell him to drop by later.” he smirked, adjusting his mask over his face. “God, you’re such a  _ mother Hen.” _

“Get out of my office before I tranq you.”

***

“You look like shit.”

“Blunt as always I see.”

Anti smirked. The demon sat crossed-legged on the chair, like the bringer of chaos he was. “I’m just stating a fact, doc. And the fact is, you look like crap.”

“I didn’t summon you here to hear you critique my appearance. And I  _ definitely _ don’t appreciate you messing with my phone. Why would you even do that?”

The green-haired glitch shrugged. “Thought it’d be funny.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“Never said it’d be funny to  _ you _ ...”

The German rolled his eyes. “This conversation has no purpose, I say we move on. How’s your neck wound?”

“Same as ever, only bleeds when I overuse my powers. But you know that already. Is there a point to this, or are you just finding excuses to keep busy?”

Henrik growled in frustration, resting his head in his clammy palms; he didn’t have the energy to deal with the glitch’s taunts right now. His arms were shaking from all the caffeine he’s been inhaling for the past hour, his head wouldn’t stop pounding and  _ gottverdammnt,  _ was it always this hot in this madhouse?!

He looked back up and jumped back with a startled yelp; Anti had glitched onto his desk, his face only a few inches away from his. His mocking grin was gone, replaced with an unusually serious expression. He squinted, something akin to concern flashing in his acid green eyes. “... you really  _ are _ sick, aren’t you. Did you even eat today?”

“I’m  _ fine _ .”

“Stop it. I fucking hate it when you lie.”

“I’m not!”

The glitch huffed at the other’s stubbornness. “Whatever. It’s your funeral.”

***

“... barely even hurts anymore, and- uh, Hen? You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so hot…”

Henrik blinked sluggishly at the blurry red figure in front of him; he didn’t remember Jackie coming in. He ran a shaky hand through his hair; it was damp and stuck to his forehead.

Had he asked Anti to send the hero in? Now that he thought about it, he didn’t remember Anti leaving his office either. Also, he felt like throwing up. That was concerning.

He mumbled something, not noticing he had reverted back into his mother tongue. Jackie’s concerned face kept sliding out of view, everything was spinning out of his control.

“Wh- dude, I can’t understand you and frankly, you’re starting to freak me out.”

He tried to stand; he needed to get out, get out of his stuffy office and maybe stand in the cold rain for a while, get rid of this suffocating heat and his sudden nausea-

The world tilted on its axis, and next time he blinked, he was on the floor. Huh. It was more comfortable than he expected it to be.

“Sh- Hen?! What... ...rik! Can… me? Guys, I… help!”

The rooms spinned faster and faster as he felt his eyes roll back into his head. And then he felt nothing at all.

***

Everything hurts.

His limbs feel like lead and it’s like his ears are filled with cotton. He can vaguely make out the muffled voices of his family, and a quiet sob coming from somewhere in his right.

Schneep lets out a pained croak; his mouth tastes like iron. Shit, he must’ve bit his tongue when he collapsed.

“Oh shit, he’s coming back!”

“Sshhhh, it’s okay Robbie, don’t cry… Henrik? Hen, can you hear us?”

“Hey, doc? Blink twice if you’re not dead.”

“ _ Verpiss dich. _ ” he groans. His whole world is burning, something is definitely trying to claw its way out of his skull, and he wants it to stop.

Someone snorts; he can’t tell who, his mind isn’t working right. “I  _ think _ he just insulted me, so he’s fine.”

He forces his eyes open -jesus, everything looks like an oversaturated blob right now- pushing on his trembling arms in an attempt to sit up.

“Oh no you don’t.” an authoritative voice snarls at him.

He feels something touch his face; his vision sharpens and for a second, he sees Marvin staring down at him, two fingers pressed against his damp forehead. The magician smiles. “This is for all the times you tranqued me.”

“What are you-”

** _“Sleep.”_ **

And he does.

***

The second time he woke proved to be the right one.

Well, he still felt like shit overall. But the splitting pain in his skull had faded to a dull throb, and the smoldering heat to a bearable warmth. Progress.

His eyes fluttered open, taking in the familiar decor of his own bedroom. His night light seemed to be set on the lowest intensity, sparing his eyes  _ and _ his head. It was dark outside.

“Oh thank fuck, you’re back. We were gonna take you to the ER if you didn’t wake up before dawn.”

Henrik twisted his neck to look at his left; Chase was sitting next to his bed, his shoulders dropping in apparent relief. The doctor propped himself up against the wall behind him -oh good, he could move without the room going all merry-go-round on him, hurray- and opened his mouth, but all that came out was a broken croak;  _ gott _ , his throat and mouth were dry as a desert. Thankfully, Chase seemed to notice his woes and produced a water bottle from the foot of the bed, holding it out to his brother. “Here. Figured you’d want this, your fever only broke an hour ago.”

The German gratefully took the offering and greedily drained it, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat. He didn’t stop until the bottle was crushed, and he took a starved gulp of air. “D-Danke. What time is it?”

“Eh, about 3AM. So if I remember my third-grade math right, you’ve been out for about twelve hours.”

“Jesus.”

“Yup. You scared the shit out of us.”

Schneep sighed, propping the empty bottle on his nightstand. “I know. I’m sorry. Where’re the others?”

“Downstairs. Robbie fell asleep, but everyone else is awake and waiting for news.”

“Everyone…?”

“Yeah. Well, everyone but Anti, but that was to be expected, he gets elusive when there’s too many of us around. Jackie stayed home for the night to make sure you’d be okay, and Marv canceled his show.”

Henrik groaned, his face heating up in shame. “Dammit.” Then he remembered the sensation of cool fingers on his forehead, and two slitted green eyes pulling him into the darkness. “Wait. Did Marv seriously knock me out with magic?!”

Chase grimaced. “Yeah, he won’t be sorry about that one. Plus you kinda needed it.”

“Hmpf.”

“I’ll let them know you’re up. But first…”

The vlogger grabbed his chair and plopped down on hit, his arms and head resting on top of the backseat. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on with you.”

Henrik averted his gaze, staring at the ceiling. It could use a fresh paint job, he thought. “Nothing.”

“We both know that’s bullshit. I’m not a literal lie detector like Anti, but I can tell when you’re hiding something.” Chase waved at his friend’s prone body. “I mean for God’s sake, just look at yourself! You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks now, and you won’t tell any of us  _ anything _ ! I don’t care why you thought you could let it go so far, but as soon as it starts affecting your health then it becomes  _ our _ problem too!”

The vlogger was glaring daggers into him. Chase didn’t get angry often, so whenever he did, that was a pretty clear sign that you’d messed up. Big time. Henrik let out a trembling breath, covering his eyes; what an absolute  _ Schwierigkeiten _ .

“Remember when I passed out in the kitchen that one time?”

The German turned to look at his brother, disconcerted by the sudden change in topic. The vlogger was clutching the wooden chair, head bowed, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his iconic cap. The off-white scars on his arms were peeking out of his sleeves.   


“Robbie hadn’t slept well that night. He always had good instincts. So he came downstairs early in the morning to get some warm milk, and he almost tripped on my unconscious body. Remember  _ that _ ?”

Henrik cringed; he did. And he was starting to understand what Chase trying to convey.

“Now,” his brother continued, “I wasn’t awake to witness that. Not the way he wailed loud enough to wake up the entire house, nor the look on his face when he ran to you for help. But…” 

He pointed at Henrik. “ _ You _ ’ve told me about all this. Several times, in great detail, every time you thought I was about to relapse. Which I didn’t, not since that day, because what you described was too heart-wrenching to even consider. And it was all second-hand knowledge, you know? Like I said, I didn’t  _ experience _ it. But today?  _ I _ was the one Robbie ran to, weeping about how you’d stopped moving. And, well…”

He chuckled, rubbing his face. It was devoid of mirth. “Let’s just say I’d rather cut off my own arm than see that look on his face ever again. So, you’re going to tell me why you’ve been destroying yourself, and I  _ might _ consider not kicking your ass when you’re back on your feet again.”

Silence. 

He sighed. He was cornered. “...Okay, fine. But you  _ will _ keep it to yourself,  _ klar _ ?”

Chase shrugged. “Unless hiding it would put us in danger, then I see no reason not to.”

Henrik rolled his head on the pillow, gazing up at the ceiling once more. He braced himself - _ c’mon, it’s Chase, you can trust him with this _ \- then took a deep breath. “I’ve been… conflicted. About something.”

Chase nodded, urging him to continue. That was a good start.

“I didn’t want to think about it, but it just kept looping in my mind, over and over. So I tried to keep busy, to make the thoughts go away.”

“That one’s a given. So what’s been eating you? Did something happen? Do I need to punch someone?”

Henrik snorted. He knew that Chase was being completely serious, that he cared about him enough to kick someone’s ass on his behalf. Not going to lie, it felt nice. “Please don’t, none of this is his fault.”

The vlogger squinted. So this  _ was _ about a guy.

“I’m just… I’m being stupid about it, okay? It probably didn’t mean anything and here I am overthinking it.” the German rambled; the floodgates had opened, words spilling out with less and less restraint. “ _ Verdammt. _ I don’t know what happened. Everything was normal up until now, but then I started getting those weird signals and they might not even be signals at all and I maybe I’m reading him all wrong-”

“Dude, stop, I get it. You got a crush on Edward.”

Henrik choked on his words. He craned his neck so fast he felt it crack -gross- and stared wide-eyes at his sibling; there wasn’t the faintest trace of surprise on his face. Only calm understanding.  _ Scheiße, was it  _ that _ obvious?! _

Chase seemed to somehow hear his thoughts, offering him a patient smile. “Dude, I’ve seen it all before. Heck, I’ve  _ been _ there. Plus I know he walked you home a while ago, and it matches with when you started acting weird.”

The bedridden ego let out a huff. “What are you, a detective?”

“Worse than that, I’m a father. I notice stuff.”

There was a moment of silence, as Schneep visibly struggling to find the right words, running his fingers through his mop of brown and grey hair. 

“I just… I’ve known him for so long. We’ve been working in the same clinic almost every day for years, so why  _ now _ _?_ What changed?”

Chase shrugged. “Hell if I know. Sometimes this stuff just… happens, y’know? There’s no grand rhyme or reason behind it, it just is. You only get to choose how to deal with it.”

The fatherly ego got off the chair to sit on Schneep’s bedside. “And, yeah, that’s where you’ve been messing up lately. I ain't gonna tell you how to live your life, but you need to stop running away from this. It’ll only get worse the longer you ignore it.” He sighted. “Christ dude. For all your talk about feelings and shit, you suck when it comes to your own.”

“I suppose.” the German mumbled. “Again, I’m sorry I scared you all. I really am.”

“Well… if you promise us to never do that again then I guess I can forgive ya.” the vlogger winked and got up, stretching and cracking his joints. “Why don’tcha think on this for now, and I’ll go tell the others you didn’t slip into a coma or something. ...buuut before I do, I kinda have a confession to make.”

He scratched at the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m the one who asked Anti to get rid of your alarm. So don’t be mad at him for that.”

Schneep’s jaw dropped, shock written all across his features. “ _ Was _ ? That was  _ your _ idea? But- why?!”

“Look, I was just really worried, and it was your first day off in god-knows how long, I wanted you to get some rest!”

“I swear- wait. Anti  _ listened _ ?”

“He’s been…  _ cooperative _ lately. I know, crazy right?”

“Cooperating to make my life a living hell. You’ll be the death of me, all of you.”

Chase laughed. “We love you too, ya goof.”


End file.
